Genesis (ONC2022)

Day Eight: Part Two

(A/N: Cue mood song > Control by Halsey 😈 That song literally helped me write this part. Also if it wasn't already obvious, we're continuing from the previous part)

Word count 1273 words

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Freya wasn't home yet when Alex got back home. She was probably still by the store getting the groceries. They'd run out of a few essentials last night and between her two sales assistant jobs, she barely had time to get things done at home.

He had often tried to help out with the household chores but Freya would disapprove. She did not want him to worry about trivial things. She wanted her son to only focus on himself. Although he had tried to insist, she would refuse his help.

She was a self sacrificing person who wanted only the best for her son and for that to happen she was prepared to sacrifice everything. Even herself.

Ever since his father left, ending up as a traitor and fugitive from the government, Freya had taken it upon herself to raise her son. She had given up her own dreams, putting her marketing studies on hold and picking up all manner of odd jobs to raise Alex.

This made him very sad. Alex hated how she was overworking herself. He hoped to repay all she had done for him.

Which was why he decided to take advantage of her absence. Although he was dog tired, he figured he could atleast do the laundry. Freya might throw a fit about it but atleast then he would have finished the job.

Settling into a comfortable routine, he went about the chore whilst enjoying the music he had on his iPad. Time seemed to fly as he found himself having done three laundry basket fulls of washing.

With everything neatly folded up into the baskets, he decided that Freya must have come back home by now.

Carefully closing the door of the laundry room behind him, he made his way up the stairs towards the living room.

It was the raised voices that made him fault in his step.

"How dare you come here and speak to me about that man!"

"I only want to help you, Freya. It must have been hard for you raising your son all alone..."

"You're right it was! That bastard didn't even care when he decided to be a deserter! I don't care what dumb cause you're pushing, but don't you dare come here preaching about how you'll allow that man to come back if we help you! He can go rot in hell for all I care!"

Wait a minute, Alex thought, this all seems so familiar. It's like dejà vu.

He listened to the conversation as the lights started flickering around him.

"Come on, Freya. Think about it. Is this the life you really want to live?"

I know that voice, he thought as it all came crushing back.

He'd already been here. Nine days ago.

He had listened to the entire conversation and had discreetly jumped out the window to wait for the man because one thing had caught his attention. His father.

It was a no-brainer, really. The only thing that made Freya mad besides dubious salesmen was the very thought of Janice Maxwell but Alex knew it was because she had been head over heels in love with him.

He knew that she wanted nothing more than to see him again. Sure, she'd probably scream at him for a bit. Throw plates and chase him around with cutlery. She reserved the right after all he had left her broken hearted. Yet Alex knew that they would probably kiss and make up then things might go back to the way they were before.

Alex barely remembered his father but he figured his mother needed to see him again. She needed the closure.

That was the reason he had secretly met up with Rowen. It was the reason he had agreed to his proposal without his mother's consent. He was twenty four years old, after all. He didn't need it.

When he had told Freya his decision, he had expected her to oppose the whole thing but she had strangely been okay about it.

Blinking once, he suddenly found himself standing in the kitchen. Freya sat by the table looking exhausted. She didn't seem to be aware of his presence as she stared at absolutely nothing.

Then she surprised him by looking right at him with lifeless eyes but wasn't what startled him. When she turned to face him, the right half of her face was rotting away.

He jumped back in fright before he realized that her face was absolutely normal.

I'm seeing things again, he thought as his face paled.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Don't mind silly old me just wallowing in my loneliness." She said in a tone that made him believe she didn't recognize him.

"Mom ..." He began.

She turned her attention to him, looking at him with a confused expression.

"You must have me confused with someone. I'm no one's mother."

"What are you talking about? I'm your son!" He said desperately.

"Son... Or that's right. I have a son..." She said thoughtfully with a faraway expression. "But the ungrateful little brat decided he wanted his bastard father over me, the mother who raised him for eighteen years."

"What? No... No that's not true." He said. "Why are you saying these things?"

"Because it's the truth." She merely shrugged.

"No it's not! Mom... I'm right here. Don't you see me?" He asked in despair.

"Then why haven't you called me since you left?" She asked, looking straight at him for the first time with glowing golden eyes.

"Because... Because I thought you would be mad at me." He sai, his voice barely audible. "Wait, why am I even listening to you? This isn't real. None of it is. This is just a dream."

He watched as she gave him a sinister smile.

"Then go ahead and wake up if you think it's just a dream." She said to him in a malevolent tone.

It was the bone chilling howl of a wolf that startled him as he suddenly found himself wide awake. Cold.

Why was it so cold? He didn't remember his meager room being so cold. Hold on, why could he see the night sky? What the hell was going on?

Panicking, he sat up straight. He could feel the gravel underneath him but that wasn't what immediately caught his attention. As his eyes began to wonder around, trying to assess where he was and what was going on, he caught sight of the body that lay unmoving half a metre away from him.

He remained unmoving for a moment as he tried to think of what he should do. The first thought that crossed his mind is that he should check if the poor guy is breathing. That's the most logical thing to do even if he was panicking.

Taking a deep breath to try and calm his erratic breathing, he extended his hand towards the unconscious man only to stop.

The break of dawn was evident as the rising sun alighted the horizon. In the last moments of absolute darkness, the moonlight shone on him, making him see everything clearly and what he saw was blood on his hands. A lot of blood on his hands and now that he was looking he suddenly realized that the unconscious man in front of him was lying in a pool of blood with some really nasty wounds. It looked as if he had been attacked by some ferocious beast.

Everything else seemed to fade out of existence as he stared in shock at his hands.

No...

No...

This isn't happening...

This is just a terrible dream, I'll wake up any moment now...